When The Night Is Cold
by TheFantasticPhantomWriter
Summary: After the Careers planned to take out Cato in his sleep, Peeta formed an unlikely alliance with him and they find themselves partnered and freezing in a cave. How will they keep warm? Rated M for sexual content. Cato/Peeta.


When The Night Is Cold

The night was one of the coldest yet in the arena, and icy tendrils reached into every nook and cranny it could reach, determined to make everything freeze. For Cato and Peeta who were lying in a rock cave on nothing but a thin plastic sheet, this was most unwelcome. The two had retreated here after a most shocking event took place outside.

"She hates me," said Peeta, hands buried as far as he could reach into his jacket pockets. "She saw me with the rest of the Careers and now she hates me." His voice was a strange mixture of sad, relieved, and angry. On one hand, he didn't want to kill Katniss and if she was this angry at him, surely she'd kill him first. On the other hand, however, he was upset that she didn't think first, try to imagine a reason why he'd be with them in the first place.

"Can you blame her?" Cato asked, and his voice was as cold as the wind. "This is a betrayal for her. Jesus, I'd have ripped your head off."

"Thanks for those comforting words," Peeta muttered. The two had formed an unlikely alliance against everything and everyone else in the arena when the Career pack decided to turn on Cato. Peeta, though he still questioned why he did it, had warned Cato and the two had run. He convinced himself it was because of the safety in numbers, but he knew that was a lie. Cato was as likely to kill him as anyone else. Maybe more likely.

"You know me, love to make people feel better." Cato rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up. "Can it get any fucking colder out? I think my toes are going to fall off."

"There's worse things that could fall off," Peeta said, but he was just as cold as Cato. They had few supplies; just a sword, a knife, a backpack of food and some water. They had neglected to find any blankets or sleeping bags since it had been hot in the arena only three days ago, and the sudden change had been unexpected. Peeta wondered if maybe it was the Game maker's decision to toss in some trying weather to torture the new alliance.

"I wonder if she'll hunt us down," Cato wondered aloud, as if to distract himself from his numb extremities. "She's not a bad fighter, but it's two on one, and we clearly tip the scale in strength. Besides, she must be freezing. Maybe the cold will kill her." The idea brought a smile to his face.

"She has a sleeping bag," Peeta snapped. "And I don't want her to _die_. I do care about her."

"But you don't love her, do you?" Cato asked. There was a curious undertone to his voice. Peeta shrugged in reply, unsure of how to answer. The truth would be that no, he didn't, but he did care about her. Maybe just as friends, but she still had a place in his heart. If he told Cato that he didn't love her, he might suggest they hunt her. He didn't think he could handle that.

"Okay, enough small talk," Peeta said, completely ignoring Cato's question. "Let's brainstorm how the hell not to freeze to death here."

"Go find your girlfriend, I'm sure she'll keep you warm," Cato grinned.

"She seems in a _really_ loving mood, doesn't she?" Peeta snorted.

"That's one bad thing about the arena," Cato admitted. "No way to release any of _that_ kind of tension."

Peeta stared at him incredulously. "Is that seriously what you've been thinking about? Sex? Wow, you've got your priorities straight."

"What can I say, I'm a man," Cato was still grinning. Peeta sighed and decided to ignore his obvious jabs at his manliness. He was nearly as strong as Cato, and his body looked about the same fitness level, so he really had no room to talk.

"So have you got a girl then? Back home?" Peeta asked. They didn't often have any conversations that could be considered 'personal', but under the circumstances, there wasn't much to do aside from talk. Cato looked at him with a frown on his face.

"No," he said. "I guess I'm kind of like you that way."

"What do you mean?" Peeta asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The person I want is in here with us," Cato gave a hard humorless laugh. "Even if they weren't I wouldn't stand a chance."

Peeta looked at him with shock evident on his face. He cared about someone in the arena? Was it Clove? He couldn't see it being anyone else, because that would have to mean he had become interested in them _after_ they arrived for the Games. That was unheard of.

"Clove?" He inquired.

Cato hesitated. "No," he answered slowly after a moment. "Not Clove."

"Then who?" Peeta's eyes widened. Cato didn't answer right away, seeming to deliberate over whether to tell or not. Finally, he said in a soft voice most unlike any Peeta had ever heard from the boy,

"You."

Peeta couldn't reply. It had to be a joke. There was absolutely, positively no way that this brute of a human being, this manly muscular guy, liked Peeta. On top of the fact that they were from different Districts and had opposite personalities, they were both guys! People in the Capitol had little aversion to the idea, but in District 12, it was a strange concept and often shoved to the side and not dealt with. Nobody was cruel to someone that exposed an attraction to the same sex, but it wasn't something anyone aspired to. It was something to be shoved under the rug.

"What?" he replied at last. "Hilarious joke, man."

"It would be a pretty lame joke, wouldn't it?" Cato had a crooked smile on his face, but it had lost some of its cockiness. "Just forget I said anything. You think it's weird."

"Of course I do." Peeta didn't drop the subject. "Since when has this happened? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Cato snapped. "And it's been since I first spoke to you in the arena. Y'know, when we became the Careers." He rolled his eyes as though the thought of his previous allies annoyed him. "And then you basically tried to save me, and we ran off together like a couple of newlyweds."

"Great comparison," Peeta said dully.

"And you?" Cato asked, blue eyes peeking up to catch his reaction. "What do you think?"

"I think you're a monstrous jerk," Peeta laughed quietly. "But I guess you're not so bad when you aren't killing people, or threatening. Oh, and when you don't have that dumb cocky expression on your face." He paused. "Wow. Not very often then."

"Shut up," Cato laughed. He quickly became serious. "I know how to keep warm," he said in a quiet voice.

It took Peeta a moment to understand. "Wait… Are you suggesting… we…"

"Yeah," Cato shrugged, not looking concerned. "Wanna?"

"I dunno," Peeta ran a hand through his hair, turning it into a ruffled mess. "I've never… and it's… um…"

"It feels good," Cato persuaded. His fingers drifted to linger over Peeta's. "I won't hurt you."

"Why am I on bottom?" Peeta demanded, then turned red. "Not that we're going to, uh…"

"Fight me for it then?" Cato asked innocently, leaning over so he was face to face with Peeta. Peeta thought his breath had a very distinctive smell, maybe like an exotic spicy plant. It was harsh, but something delicate was hidden there as well.

"Stop asking me questions like that," Peeta mumbled, unsure of how to proceed.

"Will you attack me or call it rape if I continue then?" Cato asked. His right hand came up to touch Peeta's lips gently.

Peeta looked at the ground. After a few tense seconds, he shook his head.

Cato wasted no time. Peeta gasped when he felt Cato push him to the ground, instantly dominant, and pressed his lips firmly to Peeta's. It was not sweet and soft and gentle; neither of them were really the delicate type, and the sweet moment had definitely passed. Peeta wasn't experienced in this, but he moved his lips uncertainly against Cato's and let out a tiny groan when he realized how good it felt. Cato smiled into their kiss and with one hand trapped in the hair on the back of Peeta's head, he slipped his other into Peeta's plain black tribute shirt.

Peeta was practically in Cato's lap now, and although he had been planning to attempt to take the dominant role, he realized he didn't really want to. He _liked_ the forceful way that Cato was handling him, the possessive nature with which his partner treated him. Cato's hand was ghosting across his abdomen, tracing the faint abs and dipping lower, following a line to the edge of his pants. He tugged on them lightly, a tease, but didn't remove them. Instead, he pulled back and removed his own shirt in a quick motion, tossing it somewhere behind them. In what seemed to be the same second, Cato had pulled Peeta's shirt over his head as well.

"C'mere," Cato murmured, pulling Peeta fully onto his lap and pressing their chests together. "Let's get warm."

Without really making the decision in his head, Peeta's arms wrapped around Cato's neck and pulled him in closer to kiss him again, this time slipping his tongue into Cato's mouth. His body was perfectly aligned with Cato's, and the same heat now radiating through his body was emanating from the District 2 boy as well.

"Shit," Cato groaned when Peeta shifted and accidentally made a grinding motion against the front of the others pants. With a tiny grin, he repeated the action, and received the same response. He also felt that there was something pressing up against his ass through the pants, but far from making him fear what they were doing and planning to do, it excited him.

His hands shaking slightly, Cato reached in between their bodies and pulled on the edge of Peeta's pants again, a silent demand that he wanted them removed. From the pushiness of his actions, it was clear he wanted that to happen sooner than later.

"Calm down," Peeta panted, but his words were ineffective when his voice was so shaky. "I'll get it." He unzipped them and Cato pulled them the rest of the way off impatiently, tossing them without paying attention to where they were going. When his hands were once again unoccupied, he ran one of them over the front of Peeta's plain black boxer briefs (all the boys in the arena had been given the same undergarments), and used the other to clumsily attempt to remove his own pants.

Peeta, though distracted by the hand that was stroking him through the fabric, helped Cato out of the garment and added them to their growing pile of removed clothing.

"Touch me too," Cato breathed in Peeta's ear, giving it a little nip. Peeta shuddered but obeyed, running both his hands down Cato's muscular chest and over his growing erection. A slight twinge of fear mixed with excitement went through him when he realized what he was now touching was going to be inside of him soon enough.

"Cato," Peeta started to say, unsure of how to express his fears.

"Mm?" the District 2 boy replied, mouth busily making a mark on Peeta's neck.

"I'm just, ah," he groaned when Cato's tongue ran over a particularly sensitive area. "just nervous."

Cato laughed quietly. "Don't be," he said. "I'm gonna be careful." He continued working his way down Peeta's body with his tongue, and paused to stare up at the boy when he reached the edge of the final piece of clothing.

"J-Just do it," Peeta moaned, reaching down to twine a scarred baker's hand into Cato's blonde hair.

"Don't have to ask me twice," Cato muttered, and he quickly pulled down the briefs. While he tugged them all the way off, he gave the top of Peeta's erection a little kiss, peeking up again to see what reaction he was receiving. Peeta bit his lip to stop a moan from escaping when Cato, without any hesitation, licked him from base to tip. He pulled him halfway into his mouth then, and began bobbing his head, running his tongue around the tip and down the underside.

"Have you done this before?" Peeta asked, ashamed when it came out almost as a whimper.

Cato removed his mouth from Peeta's cock slowly. "No," he said with a grin when his mouth was no longer full. "But I've had it done, so I can guess what feels good."

Peeta wanted to acknowledge that he understood what Cato had said, maybe say yes or nod at him, but he was sufficiently distracted when Cato returned his attention to the matter at hand and pulled him back into his warm mouth.

"D-Don't do too much," he groaned. "Or I'll be too early."

Cato made a sound of agreement in the back of his throat without taking his mouth away from Peeta's cock, and the baker boy groaned when the vibrations from the sound went through him.

"That counts as too much," he moaned, grabbing Cato's messy blonde hair and pulling him away with a slight popping sound. Cato just grinned.

"Sorry if I'm too good for you," he said cockily with a shrug. Peeta rolled his eyes and panted as he looked Cato over. He was shiny with sweat now, and he had long forgotten the cold as well. In a way, it was adding to the high.

"Want me to…?" Peeta trailed off, but his eyes drifted to the obvious bulge in Cato's briefs and he got the message easily enough.

"You don't have to," he said. "But saliva makes a good lubricant." He stared at Peeta, searching for signs of discomfort.

"I offered, you idiot," he replied, pushing Cato back to the ground with a grin on his face. Wasting no time, one of his rough baker's hands snuck downwards and grasped Cato's arousal in his hand.

"Ahh, yes," Cato groaned, turning his head to the side with a smile. "Feels good."

"Let me try this, then," said Peeta, lowering his head but keeping his eyes on Cato's face as he took him into his mouth slowly. Cato let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan and reached down to tangle his hand in Peeta's hair the same as had been done to him. Peeta moved slower than Cato, more experimentally. He really had no sexual experience at all, so this was unfamiliar territory. Thankfully, Cato seemed to be enjoying himself. He let him pull his hair, but kept one hand at his waist to push back if he was forced down too far. Last thing he needed to do was start gagging at a moment like this.

"I don't know if everyone else just sucked, but this is the best I've ever had," Cato groaned out suddenly. Peeta bobbed his head a few more times before removing his mouth, panting.

"Thanks," he said with a grin. "I guess." When he moved to return to his task, Cato pushed him back slightly. Peeta looked up in surprise.

"Believe me, I don't really want you to stop, but I think we could try something else now," he said with a crooked smile. "If you're ready, that is."

Peeta rolled his eyes. "I really don't think I'm going to get any more ready than I am now," he admitted, subtly turning a glance down at his erection. "I haven't exactly thought much about this before."

"You sure?" Cato asked, but even though he was double-checking, his hand had already begun to stroke Peeta again, pushing him to the floor of the cave so that he was hovering above him.

"Yes," Peeta said in a whisper. He lifted his hips slightly and bit his lip when he felt their dicks rub up against each other teasingly.

"Oh, do that again," Cato hissed in pleasure, laying his hands on either side of Peeta's shoulders for balance. The baker obeyed the demand and lifted his hips again and let out a moan when he felt the delicious friction once more. Getting the idea, Cato pushed his hips downward to grind into Peeta over and over again, both of them groaning and hissing swear words.

"Not quite what I thought you were planning on doing," Peeta laughed breathlessly, arms snaking around Cato's waist to keep him moving against him.

"Is that a complaint?" Cato asked with a grin, grinding down with particular force. Peeta gasped and arched in pleasure.

"N-No, can't say it is," he replied. One of Cato's hands began sneakily moving down his body, but Peeta paid it little attention until he felt it trail down to his ass. He jumped slightly.

"Still okay?" Cato asked, looking in his eyes to double check. Peeta nodded.

"Just surprised," he said. "Keep moving against me."

"Sure thing," Cato obliged, and while he continued his pleasurable movements against Peeta, he stuck his own fingers in his mouth and coated them quickly with saliva. The sight of Cato with something in his mouth like that made Peeta, if possible, even more turned on than he had been before. Although he was expecting the nudge at his entrance, he still gasped when the fingers pushed inside of him.

"Oh man," he hissed, nails digging into Cato's shoulders.

"How bad?" Cato asked, looking at his face nervously.

"Keep going, your dick is a bit bigger than two fingers," he grimaced and gritted his teeth as Cato resumed his movements, slowly thrusting his fingers into Peeta, who was crashing his hips against the other blonde boy with an almost reckless abandon, perhaps to distract himself from the pain farther down.

"How is it now?" Cato asked, hoping his voice was steady, but knowing it was unlikely with the intense feelings in his southern regions. Peeta's mouth was open as he panted, and his eyes closed every few seconds, as though he could not physically endure the pleasure.

"It doesn't even hurt any, ah, anymore," he groaned. "Feels good, actually."

"Are you… ready, then?" Cato slowly removed his fingers and stopped Peeta from grinding into him so he could think rationally for a moment. The baker glared up at him with an irritated expression on his flushed face.

"Do you really think I'm going to say no now?" he asked. He twisted his hips up to meet Cato's again, and he let out a low hiss.

"Fuck, fine," he growled back at him. He lined himself up with Peeta's entrance, gently pushing so that he had an idea of what was coming. He closed his eyes.

"Do it," he said before snapping his jaw closed to prepare for what was sure to be an initially unpleasant experience. Cato nodded, and although it was not within his personality to be nervous, he felt a slight shudder of uncertainty ripple through him. He knew that Peeta was absolutely not going to back out now though and he would probably punch Cato if he suggested once more that they could stop, so with that in mind, he pushed his hips forwards into the baker boy.

He heard Peeta's sharp intake of breath and felt the way he suddenly clenched all his muscles, but Cato found it hard to focus on that, despite the fact that he did not want Peeta to be in pain. His mouth popped open and his eyes closed, fingers digging into the legs that he had held against his sides. He knew it was going to be good, great even, but this… this was like ecstasy. He hadn't even really moved yet, and he had never felt so amazing in his entire life.

"Shit, oh, Jesus," Cato hissed, laying his head against Peeta's leg and breathing with quick bursts.

"Mm, you got that right," Peeta replied in a weak voice, chest rising and falling rapidly from his place on the ground. "Just wait a second."

Cato could do that. Cato could definitely do that. He didn't even need to think about what it would feel like when he got moving; this was good enough for him at the moment. Besides, somewhere in the back of his head a voice was reminding him that he did want Peeta to enjoy himself too, and that he needed to adjust to this weird new thing that he was experiencing.

Thirty seconds later, Peeta spoke again, this time with less pain in his voice. "Move, Cato."

"Will do," Cato groaned, and he shifted his hips slightly and slowly pulled out and pushed back in again, still slowly. He opened his eyes to look at Peeta's face. He was biting his lip, and his eyes were wild with a mix of pleasure and pain. They looked watery, and Cato prayed that he hadn't hurt him so bad that he needed to cry. He didn't stop him though, so again he gave a gentle thrust.

"Does it, nnnh, hurt?" Cato asked with a hint of worry in his voice as he continued to thrust in and out slowly and carefully.

"Not bad," Peeta replied, reaching down and running his hand through Cato's blonde hair in an action that was surprisingly intimate and romantic. "Go faster." His voice was almost a whisper.

Cato did not need to be told twice. He began rocking his hips back and forth in a steady rhythm, feeling an extra stab of pleasure shoot through him every time Peeta let out a whine or whimper.

"Cato," he called out suddenly, and a shudder ran through the body of the names owner.

"Say it again," he whispered, pulling Peeta onto his lap and continuing to rock his hips into him. Peeta groaned and hid his face in Cato's shoulder, now moving with him instead of writhing in pleasure on the ground.

"Cato, Cato, Cato," he chanted, the last sounding almost like a sob. Cato gripped Peeta's hips and used the handhold to help guide the baker up and down, their breath becoming quickly ragged and the thrusts irregular as they both neared their breaking point. Peeta had abandoned all of his previous embarrassment and shame of making noise and every breath he took turned into a moan or a whimper of Cato's name.

"So close," Cato whispered into Peeta's ear, pulling his body flush against his own, wanting to feel every part of him. "I'm so close."

"Me too," Peeta whispered back to him, feeling his hard cock brush against Cato's stomach and driving him nearly mad with pleasure. "Together, right?"

"Yes, you idiot," Cato panted. "Lie back down."

Peeta did so, not removing Cato from himself once. He wrapped his legs around the District 2 boy's back, eagerly inviting him to pick up the pace, a request that Cato quickly gave in to.

"Can y-you touch me?" Peeta asked, voice faltering as Cato rammed against something especially pleasurable inside of him. "I'm almost there."

Cato just nodded, finding himself beyond speech as he reached one hand down to grasp at Peeta's erection, stroking it as best he could in time with each thrust. They both panted and when they connected eyes a moment later, they knew it was over.

"Cato!" Peeta groaned and he littered his seed over his own stomach and his partners hand.

"Shiiiiiit, Peeta," Cato bit his lip as he felt the baker boy tighten around him, bringing him to his finish before he could even remove himself from his body. He collapsed on top of Peeta, both still breathing heavy, neither speaking. It was quiet for a longer time than either of them expected. Peeta winced slightly when he felt the ache that was slowly growing inside him, and the strange feeling of liquid dripping down his legs, but he remained in a sort of glow. Cato was the same, and though his head was turned to the side on Peeta's chest, the baker could feel the smile against his skin. Peeta was the first to speak again.

"Wow," he said simply.

Cato looked at him in the eyes and let out a small laugh. "Just wow? I don't even have the words to describe… that…" he trailed off, a grin growing on his face again. Peeta gave a smile in return, leaning forwards slightly to touch his lips gently to Cato's.

"Weird," he laughed afterwards. "Can't say I ever expected this."

"But you're warm, right?" Cato asked.

"The warmest."

* * *

**A/N: **_Hey guys! This was the Cato/Peeta one-shot I had been writing on the side of "But He's Just A Baker", and I just finished it this afternoon. I had some fun writing this, and it was interesting writing smut since I haven't really done it in a while. I need to get my dirty mind whipped back into shape. _

_The crazy response to my other story is sort of what prompted me to write this short thing. I got over 100 reviews for 4 chapters of my other one, and over 10, 000 reads. (Kind of sad to know only 100 of those reviewed, I'll admit.)  
_

_Hope you guys enjoyed this, I know it wasn't exactly a well developed and suspenseful story, but that's sort of the point of a one-shot!  
_

_Reviews are my alcohol. I am a reviewaholic. Feed my addiction, minions.  
_

_-TFPW  
_


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